Rest Is Wisdom, Not Weakness

August 19, 2025

Rest Is Wisdom, Not Weakness

Learning to Be Sick (and to Come Back Slowly)

I got my ears pierced for the third time while Kelly and I were in the Poconos last week. Friday night happy hour special—both ears for $50. A bargain, right? Except that same night, I started to feel not just the sting of my new piercings, but a deeper ache. Ear pain. Sinus pressure. The creeping suspicion that something else was setting in.

The first day of not feeling great included driving. All day. Kelly offered to drive more than once. Two hours to pick up Leo from camp, another four to get home. I could do it. Of course I could do it. So I did. Then I unloaded the car. Then I crashed. Straight to bed at 5:30pm, where I stayed for the next 36 hours.

Here’s the thing: I don’t rest easily. I’ve held onto the belief that rest is for the weak. No pain, no gain. If you want something, you have to earn it. That script has led me to push through pain, ignore my body when it’s tired, and default to max speed or full stop—nothing in between.

Even my “sick day rules” were rigid. First, I’d have to feel really bad. Second, I’d need to be in bed with the lights off, like rest had to come with punishment. Who made this rule? Honestly, I think some part of me believed that if I took a sick day and did anything remotely enjoyable—watched TV, laughed, ate popcorn— Mr. Mooney would show up and drag me back to school.

But what if being sick didn’t have to be penance? What if I allowed myself to be taken care of? Asked for what I wanted? Smiled, even?

Yesterday, I tried it. I cried. I slept. I watched TV. I got stoned. I asked Kelly to bring me popcorn—and she did. I stayed in bed all day. There were a thousand things to do after being gone for a week: laundry, unpacking, watering, gardening. And I let them all wait. I took a day, felt like crap, and still let myself be cared for.

Here’s what I’m learning: rest is not weakness. Rest is wisdom. Rest is joy, even—if I let it be.

“True intelligence operates silently. Stillness is where creativity and solutions to problems are found.”
— Eckhart Tolle, Stillness Speaks

This is my new touchstone today. If healing comes not from pushing harder, but from softening—but also from listening—then these porch moments, this green juice, even sitting with heaviness in my chest—they’re not slacking. They’re the deep work.

And today? Today is about easing back in.

My old instinct is to “make up for lost time.” To double down, double the to-do list, double the effort. I woke up feeling a little better, a little more energy, and I went straight into overdrive: cleaned the kitchen, fed the dogs, took out the trash, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher. I could immediately feel it—the heaviness in my chest. I’m not at 100%.

So here’s the new experiment: can I start slow? Can I do just enough, and then stop? Can I sip an Arbonne green juice (thank you, Wendy) and sit outside with the dogs on the porch, watching the day rise, instead of powering through my stair project?

Maybe healing isn’t about making up for lost time. Maybe it’s about being present to the time I’m actually in.

So I’m learning not just how to be sick, but how to come back—gently, slowly, with care.

Anyone else struggle with this too?

✨ Joy in Rest Menu (the sick day edition):